Effects
by Darkness's Angel
Summary: “Why have you closed yourself off from everyone?” she asked. He didn’t answer, instead he walked closer to her, and grabbed her arm, effectively spinning her around. He just gazed at her, as if trying to tell her through his eyes. one-shot


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Effects

Summary: "Why have you closed yourself off from everyone?" she asked. He didn't answer, instead he walked closer to her, and grabbed her arm, effectively spinning her around. He just gazed at her, as if trying to tell her through his eyes. one-shot

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Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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She fluttered her eyelids open, as she began to awaken. Normally, she would stray and lazily fall back to sleep, but she remembered where she was, and sat up in bed as quietly as she could. Looking over at the other bed, Hermione watched the other girl slept on.

How lucky Ginny was. Sure, she was bothered by the happenings of last year, but she had not gone through what Hermione had. After that spell had hit her last year, at the Department of Mysteries, it had taken Hermione some time to recover, and even now that their fifth year was over, and sixth year would begin in a month or so, she was still taking potions for it.

Ginny did not have nightmares, and slept peacefully, and Hermione could not help the wave of jealously that came over her. She had nightmares about Harry dying, about Harry facing Voldemort.

She swung the covers off, and slide her legs over the side of the bed as quickly, and quietly as she could. Peering once back at Ginny, to make sure the younger girl was still sleeping, she crept out of the room, closing the door behind her.

This house had become cold. It had been cold when she had been there last year, but it had become worse now that Sirius was gone. It was always dark and unfeeling. It gave Hermione the chills as she walked through the deserted halls.

The Order had started to use Number Twelve Grimmauld Place once again as their head quarters, seeing as how the wards and enchantments had been recast, and much more powerful then before. Kreacher had been disposed of. Moody had disappeared with the evil house elf one day, and when he returned, Kreacher was no where to be seen. That had not bothered Hermione, even though she was still a firm believer in house elf rights. She was glad the vile creature was gone, and it seemed to be much easier for Harry.

Harry.

He had become much different since the death of his godfather. He was silent whenever he was around, giving off a cold, intimating vibe. The only time he chose to leave he's godfather's old room, was when he was requested downstairs by Dumbledore, other than that, he stayed cooped up in that room all day.

Hermione suspected he was not as chained up as everyone assumed. She had a distinct feeling that Harry did come out of that room more often then the others thought, but only at night.

As she was about to take her first step down the stairs, her strap of her tank top fell down. Cursing inwardly, she fixed it, and realized how cold she had actually been. There were goose bumps all over her arms and legs. Sighing, she reminded herself that the next time she decided to go off in the middle of the night, that she would wear something heavier than a black tank top, and shorts.

Once she had grabbed her powder blue bathrobe, Hermione loosely put it on, not caring that it had begun to fall down her shoulders, she continued her journey down the hard, firm staircase.

Hermione knew that Harry was keeping something from her and Ron. She had no idea what it was though. Several thoughts had run through her head more than once, but the more she thought about it, the more ludicrous her thoughts became.

Speaking of Ron, he and she were not on the best terms as of now. They had been fighting much more often, and without Harry being there, there was nothing to hold the glue of the trio together. The actual fight had been about Harry, ironically.

Ron had claimed that she spent too much time worrying about him, when he was quite capable of taking care of himself. Hermione had retorted by saying he hadn't cared enough. To say the least, things did not go over to well.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, she let out a breathe she hadn't realized she had been holding. Her eyes darted around the room, checking to see if anyone was around. Satisfied that there was no one, Hermione headed into the kitchen. Her feet padded softly against the wooden floors, and to the untrained ear, it would seem as if she had not been there at all.

She got herself a glass of water, and sat down at the table, staring at it. So many things had become different. Tonks and Remus had gotten quite close in the past few months, and Hermione suspected that there was something more there than just friendship.

Molly and Arthur seemed more worried about things, especially Molly. She had become very protective over the children, especially herself and Ginny for some reason. Hermione figured it was because Harry had become so closed off from everyone, and because she and Ginny were they only girls.

She had been so lost in her thoughts and musings, she did not notice the fact that she was not alone. To be quite honest, she hadn't been alone from the moment she had stepped off the stairs, to when she had seated herself.

So her reaction had not come as a surprise when she felt a hand on her exposed shoulder. She became startled, and nearly jumped out of her chair.

Hermione spun around, ready to shout at the person who had scared her, when her eyes widened. It was definitely not who she had been expecting. Clutching her abdomen, she inhaled deeply, trying to control her breathing rate.

"What are you doing up, Harry?" she asked softly, once she had regained her posture.

He did not say anything to her, just stared at her with haunted, dead eyes. She was used to the color of his eyes now. Gone were the innocent emerald green, replaced with dark evergreen. He had been like this all summer, and it was driving her mad.

The silence became thickening, the tension rising.

Having figured out that he was not going to answer, she stood up, and crossed the room, so she was a good distance away from him.

"Why Harry?" she questioned quietly, her back facing him.

"Why what?" he said. It had been the first thing he had said to her in awhile, let alone anyone else.

"Why have you closed yourself off from everyone?" she asked.

He didn't answer, instead he walked closer to her, and grabbed her arm, effectively spinning her around. He just gazed at her, as if trying to tell her through his eyes.

She noted that they were finally beginning to change. Specks of light green were peeking through the haze of evergreen.

Hermione had to stop herself from shivering when Harry's hand trailed up her arm to fix the strap of her tank top, since it had fallen down again. His fingers lingered a bit longer than she had anticipated, and while she had been able to stop the shiver, she could not control the goose bumps that were beginning to form.

Her powder blue bathrobe had, meanwhile, begin to drop off around her elbows, until it had fallen discreetly to the floor, forgotten, leaving Hermione in just her black tank top and shorts. She watched as Harry's eyes traveled up her body, and felt very self-conscious at that moment, yet she herself began gazing at him.

He was adorned in a pair of green and black pajama bottoms, and a green shirt, both items she had never seen before. She imagined he had probably received them the day his aunt had decided to actually but him something that fit. Hermione guessed the only reason she had done that was because of how much pressure the Order was putting on the Dursley's.

Once Hermione's line of vision reached Harry's faced, she noted his expression was in a smirk, something she wasn't sure was a good thing or not.

Without warning, he stepped closer to her, so that she was right up against him. Looking up, since he had inches on her, she noticed a gleam in his eye. She was entrapped within his eyes, as she had been numerous times, but this time, there was something different.

His face loomed down at her, as his hand came around her waist, resting against the part of her midriff that was mildly exposed. Hermione stiffed almost immediately, feeling a burning sensation, then relaxed, and leisurely brought her head upwards, so that the two were eye level.

He inhaled sharply, and leaned in, his lips on hers.

Hermione immediately closed her eyes, and kissed him back. His tongue ran slowly over the bottom of her lip, asking for entrance, and she opened her mouth for him. Their tongues clashed, and Hermione could not form any coherent thought.

Her hands came up, onto his chest, as to push him away, but then moved up, and twisted around his neck, bringing them closer if that was even possible.

The next morning at breakfast, surprising everyone, Harry walked down the stairs, and quietly sat himself next to Hermione, then ate his meal in silence.

Hermione sighed, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Sure there were a lot of things that needed to be sorted out, and he still had an melancholy vibe about him, but she knew him coming downstairs was a sign that Harry was beginning to heal, and she did not miss the fact that his eyes had become almost completely emerald green once again.

Under the table, Harry's hand had found hers, and Hermione squeezed it reassuringly. He clutched it back, and then turned to look at her a moment.

She knew that he was telling her without words that he was going to be alright, and that what the two had done last night had not been forgotten. Turning away from each other's short stare, Hermione smiled contently, and began to converse with Ginny.

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Author's Note - I finally got the chance to write this. It's been in my head for like a week, not leaving me alone. Hope you enjoyed it, and please review. The response would be, and will be much appreciated.


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